Is Love Enough?
by Heartsick for them
Summary: Heartsick for Syed, this story gives expression to what Syed might feel. Argue with me if you like, but this is for those who are uneasy and unhappy about what Syed is going through and the price he may have to pay to have Christian back.
1. Return of the Errant Lover

IS LOVE ENOUGH?

Chapter One – Return of the Errant Lover

He got out of the taxi, dropped his bags, looked around. He was nervous, stomach not quite right for reasons he could not really name and was relieved that he didn't see anyone. Or was he. He couldn't quite figure out just what it was he was hoping for.

He pulled out his mobile and texted:

"I'm here, sis, a bit early. Came to spend Christmas with you. Where are you?..." He hesitated, then added, "and where is…"

He couldn't finish the text, so picked up his bags, unlocked the door, and climbed the stairs.

A knock. The same trembling hand that could not even complete the word 'he' much less his name was now knocking at his door. Well, their door, actually, their flat, his and Syed's.

Jane rushed to the door to head off the disaster, but she was too late. Christian unlocked and opened the door and walked in before she could stop him, protect him, protect them both, just as Syed was entering the kitchen. Syed stopped, hand shaking, almost releasing the coffee cup he was holding. And then they commenced staring at each other, without a word or a gesture, without a shift towards, nor a retreat from, the other.

The silence was charged, a mix of anger, confusion, sorrow, and yes, passion, still that remarkable pull. But both men overlaid it with bitter resentments. Attraction and repulsion in equal force. It hurt less that way.

Amria trotted in just at that moment. She snarled:

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see my sister for Christmas" Christian replied.

Syed blanched ever so slightly and his eyes gleamed ever so slightly. Christian noted, as he often had, that Syed had the most expressive eyes, dark, Glimmerglass brown, untrammelled by the shittiness of the world, a transparent glance, something pure, that even his forays into lying and cheating could not erase. He trained those eyes on Christian and Christian, startled, added softly,

"And you."

They stood and stared at each other, and Jane remembered what she had told Christian in the hospital, as a lovesick brother sobbed at that thought that he has almost lost his love. She made a decision, grabbed Amira and asked her to go out for some groceries for dinner. Amira stiffened and started to shuffle over to Syed but Jane grabbed her, said that she needed help finding hallal meat, and dragged her out of the flat. Amira struggled, but then she saw the couch that he continued to sleep on and docilely walked out after Christian's sister.

"Where have you been…staying." Syed altered the question, posing the neutral curious one in place of the hurt accusatory one.

"Brighton." Christian answered. " I found some work in a restaurant and took care of some mates' house while they were on holiday. How are you?"

"I'm fine." Syed replied. "

Christian took a step forward and asked tersely,

"That's it? That's all you can answer? How have you been, what have you been doing?"

Syed didn't flinch, didn't move back, but didn't move forward either. Christian reached out to touch his face, and then Syed raised his hand and brushed Christian's gesture away. Christian noticed the hand with the ring on it and snarled,

"Oh, so that's how it is. While the gay's away, the straight will play. So now you're back to playing happy families, this time, complete with baby. How sweet, and how typical of you!"

Syed moved forward til his face was a hairbreadths away from Christian's. He spat out his denial.

"I have spent very night on that settee since you left, every night for the past 6 weeks. I didn't stop being a gay man because you left. I haven't touched her, or anyone else for that matter, Christian, not since you climbed into that taxi."

"You're a liar, Syed." Christian harangued him.

"And you are disgusting. Who were you sleeping with, in Brighton? I told you once, I was a one man man, and you were the man. I love Amira, but I have never been in love with her, never desired her, and the baby, her return, your departure, has…not….changed… that. I'm gay, Christian. I'm gay. Your departure hasn't changed that!"

"Then why is she still here, and why the fuck are you wearing the wedding ring."

Syed twisted it around and then pulled it off and flung it at Christian.

"There. It's off. I am not wearing the wedding ring. And what does that change, Christian, what difference does that ring on or off mean? She is the mother of my child, she defied her father to allow me to be a father to Yasmin, and she is my friend, she's the one who has stood by me."

Christian sighed.

"Then why were you wearing it?"

"You just don't give up, do you? You want to know? I guess you'll hear any minute now, when Jane and Amira return. We have started a business and are moving to Pakistan with my mother and Yusef, who are now married, and Tamwar and Afia. I put on the ring 'cause it looked better for the investors for me to seem like a respectable married man, and because I will need to hide that side of me for the time we stay in Pakistan."

Christian was shocked. He gaped at Syed and shook his head. But before he could say anything, Syed began in a bitter tone,

"What, you can go off, but I am supposed to stay here, pining for you? You dumped me like a teenager, through a mobile phone conversation with your sister. 'You're dumped' she told me, 'move on', 'he's not coming back', so I moved on. Not with another man, not to pretend once more that I could be a straight and happily married man, but on with some of my plans and dreams that I had put aside for us."

"You were going to leave, to move to Pakistan?"

"Yes, Christian, I was going to leave. Heartsick Syed was nonetheless getting on with his life."

Syed walked away and turned to look out the window, to hide the tears in his eyes and the trembling he felt at the nearness of this man whom he both loved and hated.

"Well, it was your leaving that started all of this, if you remember. You said some ugly things to me, Syed, and then walked out that door."

Syed whirled around, this time outraged and furious.

"I went to work. You know, that thing called responsibility. I went to work, to see the clients who were depending on me. You are unbelievable. I went to work. I didn't get in a cab and drive away. And you know what, Christian, I think I am going to do it again. There's nothing more to say."

Syed walked over and grabbed his leather jacket, but this time, Christian held on and pulled him back into the room.

Syed. Let's talk. Please. Let's talk. "

"NO. There is nothing to say, Christian, nothing at all."

And thus they stood, held together by a leather jacket clutched by an escapee and a captor, although which was which was hard to tell.

"I still love you, Syed " he said sadly, "And you love me, too. Can't you feel it?"

Syed regarded him for awhile before answering.

"You left me. Yeah, okay , Christian, yeah, I still love you. But it's not enough, as you said, as you walked away from me and my love, 'it's not enough'. And you were right. "

Something was different, some shift in the balance of power, passed between them. Syed was the stronger now, and Christian devastated, as he realized that he was losing him, and that he did not want to. Syed was slipping away and he knew he had to try to stop him.

"Can we talk about it? I'm here now, I've come back."

Syed regarded him with coldness in his brown eyes.

"We can talk. But Amira and I are off soon back to Pakistan, so I don't see what difference it will make. And now, I have some last clients to see."

And with that, he was out the door, leaving behind him a shaken and perplexed Christian.


	2. Jane and Christian

Is Love Enough?

Chapter Two – Brother and Sister commiserate

Jane walked back up and stood outside the door for a moment, but, hearing nothing, called out loudly "I'm back" and entered the flat. Christian was sprawled over the sofa, clutching a cushion, that gesture of self-comfort that he had taken on in childhood, and staring at the photo of Syed and him that Syed had not, yet, allowed Amira to put aside.

"Where's the little princess?"

Jane snorted. "You have no idea what it has been like living with ma –damn. And he just indulges her, like an amused uncle. Honestly. Anyway, she's gone off to the salon, to get her nails done, hoping that Syed would be there soon, too."

"Well, she'll get her way. He's there, now, massaging a last few clients before they move to - Pakistan."

"Ah, yes. I was going to tell you, but then you said you didn't want to hear anything more about him, that you were through with him and with Walford, so I let it go."

Christian shrugged and sank down a bit lower into the sofa. Jane sat and pulled him over into her arms.

"So what happened. What did you say to each other?"

"We argued. We said the same kinds of things that we said before I left…"

"Well then, it was the right thing to do, leaving him and the square. I'm sorry I called you back to babysit me."

Christian shook his head and noted the longing in her voice.

"Anyway, 'nough about me. Tell me about you and Massod. God, babe, you could have become my stepmother."

Jane lobbed a cushion at him and laughed.

"Let me start dinner while I tell you all about it."

Jane told him about her burgeoning affair with Massod and then about the crazy night at Ian's, when she'd promised to convert.

"I was drunk, and then, to top it off, the next day, I offered him a bit of a bacon sannie. What was I thinking? Anyway, he was lovely. He said I didn't have to convert, not unless I wanted to."

She turned to her brother to see how he was taking the joke, but there were tears in his eyes. She went and sat down beside him again, holding his hand and stroking it. He spoke, almost as if to himself.

"Oh babe, Syed was also lovely about that. He never asked me to convert, wouldn't even tell me about Islam, so that it wouldn't sound like he was trying to s_ave my soul_. I had to read a book, he said. He was fine with alcohol around the house, and accepted my need to go out with Roxy and get hammered sometimes. He never gave me a hard time, well, except the time that Roxy vomited on our carpet, and, oh yes, when we destroyed the park just before the social worker was due. But I kind of deserved those."

"You're not really over him, are you Christian?"

Christian slowly shook his head. "I guess not."

Jane took his face in her hands and turned him to face her.

"So speak to him again. I'm sure he still loves you."

"That's just it, babe. There was something different with him today, some side of Sy that I hadn't seen before. I'm not sure what he feels."

As they were speaking, Syed came up the stairs, and paused just outside the door. He was about to open the door, when he heard Jane's response.

"Christian, give him the chance to prove his love for you. Maybe it can still work out."

Syed stood there for a moment. His shoulders dipped back ever so slightly, he pulled his lip in, then, still quiet, he opened the door and stepped inside.


	3. Syed's Soliloquy

Is Love Enough?

Chapter 3 – Syed's Soliloquy

Syed was, for once, glad that he had the ability to shutter himself away from people. He liked that idea, the romance of a Swiss chalet with its wooden shutters you could pull across the window whenever you liked, and yet, still peer out from them. Sounds more poignantly heartrending than 'curtaining himself off' or 'pulling down the blinds.' Whatever simile worked, it was a tragic necessity throughout his life that he had to hide his true self away from those around him.

'True self'. Well, what was his true self? He juggled a bewildering set of conflicting identities up and down, from one hand to the other, praying that they would not fall, and with them, his very essence. Pakistani growing up in England, Muslim amongst Christians, religious participant amongst atheists and apathetes, 'apathetes, is that even a word,', these were among his earliest oppositions. Then, it became man-attracted-to-men amongst a world of straights and straight-down-the-line expectations, as well as Islam against homosexuality, and, far far too often, Allan against his consuming human needs. There was a list of them; hierarchical that time he told of them to Christian – Muslim, son, brother, and then, wife, and now, child. He had dissembled even then, when he omitted Christian from that list, even though he belonged on it, too. He left him off, because he hadn't known where to place him, and, by Allah, Christian demanded the first slot, even when Syed could not offer it to him.

All Syed knew was that he had been tired and so overwhelmed, and the one choice that had seemed to offer him the easiest way to maintain a chain of interlocking identities was to marry Amira, have children, be successful, live near the families, and remain active in the life of the mosque.

But then, dragging that manacle of expectation around exhausted him even more, because the sole important person he had excised from that list, Christian, stole his heart and made him recognize that he himself did not even appear anywhere, not in and for himself. And after suffering for all those years, he had made the first tentative steps towards a kind of freedom of being – he left his parents and choose Christian.

'Love is never easy, Syed,' he remembered his mum telling him one day in the café. Well, it sure bloody wasn't, was it? Glorious days, followed by days of mutual evisceration, leading to Christian leaving, again, 'for good' Jane said, and to him getting on with his life.

"Do you miss him, Syed, because you seem so, well, together?" Tamwar has asked.

Syed had few friends. A man in hiding cannot say too much to anyone, lest he be found out, and the habit stuck. Tanya was a friend, but she was older, a mother, and anyway, she seemed to have disappeared lately. Jane was his sister, so she was unavailable. Amira? Those first few awful days, yes, he had leaned on her, the one who professed friendship for him, but he knew that this was a dangerous pair of ears into which to pour out ones anguish. And Tam, well, he cared about Syed but life was very fraught right now, what with Mum's wedding, and the various impending visits, moves, to Pakistan. He couldn't burden him at this moment. And what was he feeling, anyway?

"I did at first. But now, Tambo, I'm so busy, I just don't have the time to miss him. He left me and he is not returning, and I have a child now. So, thank you, but I really am fine."

As the days passed by, that became more and more the case, that he was, in some way or another, fine. But why? How could he be 'fine' when the man whom he had once told that it ached to see him and not need to touch his skin, hold on to him, had left, the only one he would ever love.

Syed thought of that word Munir had once taught him, the liminal, the threshold, the space of doubt and anxiety between two aspects, that of the known, of where one was coming from, and the unknown, where one was going to. As Syed entered the flat, he knew that there was danger inside, and that he needed all of his energy to continue to be 'fine'.

'Hi Syed,' chirped Jane…


	4. Dinner Ends Disastrously

Is Love Enough?

Chapter Four – Dinner Ends Disastrously

"Hi Syed," Jane chirped. "Dinner's almost ready. We can eat as soon as Amira is here."

Christian kept his back from Syed, polishing glasses, rinsing out the pots, drying up, anything to keep himself occupied.

Syed, ever polite, answered,

"That's okay, Jane. That's very kind of you, but I think we should go out and let you and Christian catch up."

Christian stopped his polishing, then said, in an even tone,

"We have plenty of time. And besides, I also want to catch up with you and your exciting business plans and move to Pakistan. Seems you more to tell."

Syed looked over at him. Christian. He had glanced at, but not taken him in, not regarded him. 'Ripped physique', handsome face, he had adored that body, held that face in his hands and gaped at those green eyes for hours, kissed and bit and sucked those lips now pursed into some kind of sneer. He had once told Christian that when he looked at him, his heart burst and his hand longed only to caress him but now, this strange torpor, the shuttered heart, lay upon him and gave him distance. When Christian finally met his glance, Syed looked away.

"Okay." He said.

Dinner was excruciating. Jane tried her best; Syed was grateful and, for his part, tried to engage in light patter about absolutely everything and about absolutely nothing at all. Amira sat and smirked whilst Christian shot cocky innuendo around the table, that is, when they were not sniping at each other.

Syed found the whole thing distasteful. Christian was flirting with him, but in a dismissive, mocking manner, and if not that, then Syed felt that Christian was engaging in the kind of casual verbal foreplay he might offer to some fit bloke in a club. He also found himself torn, first towards defending Christian from the sneering triumphalism of Amira, and then protecting Amira from Christian's demolishing sniping. He wondered now if he could ever win Amira around to accepting Christian in his and Yasmin's life, or to Christian accepting that, whatever he thought of the woman, and that was very little, he, Syed, cared for her. Why did it have to be so complicated with them?

Anyway, he reasoned, Christian and I are through, so it doesn't really matter whether or not they get along. Something tiny plopped at the back of his heart, just for a moment, and very unobtrusively. He returned his attention to the table.

"So Sy, Pakistan, huh, in a grand home with servants and a swimming pool. A business. All very cozy, just what you had always wanted. Remember that night on the floor of the unit, soon after the first time I had you."

Syed glared at him and shook his head.

"Whoops." Christian put his hand to his mouth in a mock simper, then took it away and savagely continued,

"Anyway, she knows. She knows what we were doing there. But still, she figures that because you have that ring on again, because she has you dancing around after her, because she hopes that once you are in Pakistan, and with her repeated attempts to show you how little you have here, you will resume life as husband and wife, back in the closet. You are already there – well, that is, if you ever really left."

"Christian, please…" Jane warned.

"Oh, do let him go on. He's just making it worse and worse, trying to manipulate you, Syed." Amira stared straight at Christian while she spoke.

"Open your eyes, will you. Surely you can see what she's doing. She thinks once she gets you to Pakistan, you'll live happily ever after, and forget about ever fancying blokes. Can't you see what she is trying to do, Sy?"

Syed began to understand what was keeping him so aloof, so distant. He stood up and turned towards Christian, and with a shriek and a shout, he began to connect with what was going on inside of him.

"CHRISTIAN. THE ONLY PERSON TRYING TO CONTROL ME IS YOU. Amira has been my friend. She is the one who helped me to get my life back on track. We are no longer together. You left, remember? You told Jane to tell me, repeatedly, that I should move on with my life. AND I HAVE. You cannot stand that, can you? What did you really want, Christian? That you would return and find me destroyed. Lonely, miserable, in the same rut, the one left behind. SCREW YOU, CHRISTIAN. JUST LEAVE ME BE."

Syed grabbed his coat, shaking with this anger, and ran out the door. It opened just after him.

"Syed, SYED. Please. Can't we just talk?"

Syed felt that tiny ping again, something subtle in the back of his heart, in the pit of his stomach.

"You want to talk. Now. You didn't want to talk 6 weeks ago. You left me. You rubbed my lips and touched my cheek and said that love was not enough. You called your sister. Your sister to tell her how you were and, oh yes, by the way, can you dump that young fellow I used to be so madly in love with that we were going to be married. "

Christian looked away. Shame?, wondered Syed. Not a typical Christian sentiment.

"There's nothing to say, Christian. You said your piece at dinner."

"Sy, no, there are things to say. Please. Let's talk, really talk. Please."

"We're no longer together. How dare you come back, telling Jane and only Jane, and then berate me for the choices I've made since you left me and ripped my heart out! You have forfeited your right to say ANYTHING to me. You broke my heart, Christian."

They stood and looked at each other, there in the dark again, love underground, but not because of what others might think this time, no, because of their own actions. They did this, took the light out of their love and brought down the sun.

"I never stopped loving you. Let's talk, I'm ready to talk."

Syed looked away. For the first time in their relationship, Syed felt that the ballast of anger steadied him and wrapped a not unwelcome shield around him. Yes, before they had gotten together properly, he had been angry, but never at him, not really at him. This time, he was aware of just how livid he was, about the many things that he had allowed to slip by, about how he was not yet his own person, too desperately in love with Christian, too afraid of losing him after losing everything for him, to stand up for his own truths. And so, maybe this was his opportunity, and Christian's as well, a sort of _jihad_ of the soul, from which they could rise purified and ready to move on. He looked up at him.

"Okay." He said simply.

"Let's go to the salon. We won't be disturbed there."

And they turned and walked in a strange kind of tandem of love and disappointment, anger and expectation.


	5. The End of Syed the Silent

Is Love Enough?

Chapter Five – The End of Syed the Silent

Syed opened the door, a simple enough gesture, and yet, his hand quivered for reasons of its own, and he dropped the keys onto a darkened path.

"Here, let me." Christian laid what he imagined was a comforting hand on Syed's arm, as if to indicate that he understood what Syed was going through, scooped up the keys and stepped forward to insert them, but Syed brushed him away impatiently.

"I don't need you to protect me. I am an adult." He growled brusquely.

"Really? And I suppose your actions of the past six weeks prove that?"

There it was, that sarci-smirki superior expression that was one of Christian's least enduring characteristics. Syed thought that it was true, that, in the good times, one could even adore the flaws in a diamond one loved, but when that diamond seemed but coal, all one could see were cracks and imperfections. He grabbed the keys from Christian's hands and, now trembling with annoyance, opened the door and turned on the lights. As soon as the door was closed, most definitely closed with a thud with his foot, he swung around.

"I DO NOT NEED TO PROVE ANYTHING TO YOU!"

And as Christian was about to shift his mouth again into that mien, that one that Syed knew could drive him to push his face into the cotton wool bags that adorned the manicure counter, he rushed straight on…

"I overheard Jane, advising you kindly to _allow _me to prove my love for you. Prove my love for you. What more 'proof' do you require, huh Christian, what was the past year if not one long, glorious, sexy, exonerating proof of my love for you? What more did you want?"

And then, the countenance settled into that aspect, as Christian began his accusations.

"You put me through hell for almost 2 years, with the secrecy, the engagement, the marriage, the family and its demands, I…"

Syed looked down. He had never felt quite so angry, quite so coldly irate. Syed was a patient and generally peaceable man, whose temper flares were just that, spontaneous, hot, reactions to being stung, rather than a desire to sting. But there it was, that other feeling pushing in, unwanted intruder into righteous indignation, a sensation that felt like prodding on a festering, but veiled, wound. And the site of this pain was right in the centre of his very body, and it brought a tear to his eye. He wiped it away, sighed, and continued in a pain-ridden voice, remembering the demons that had brought him almost to the edge of his life.

"Yes, you are right. I did. I put you through hell. And then I turned all of that venom on me. I got drunk, I tried to kill myself, I put myself through horrible depredations to rid myself of longing for you. And then I stopped all of that, made my peace with Allah, and came to make my peace with you. I left everything behind and walked off with you, to our home and our life. Chapters one and two had closed, the affair and the separation. I began chapter three. I thought you had, too. I apologized again and again, until you put your hands over my mouth, and kissed it away, and told me to stop, that that was then, and was over and done.

I believed you. I thought we had begun again. I thought you had understood, and forgiven me and accepted me, that you could see the new me I was slowly building on top of the old Syed. And yet, every time I spoke to my parents, attempted to make peace with my mother, even supported Tamwar, you began the same tired old litany, 'I'm going to leave you, I am retreating to the closet, I don't put you and your needs first.' And because I know those first years were torture for you, I pushed myself to appease you.

Say no to my parents, that I won't go to the party without you, that I won't attend Tamwar's wedding without you, that I will have a child with you, that I will marry you, any and every proof you demanded of me, I met. I 'owed' you that, I thought. And I loved you so much, all I wanted to do was to reassure you of this one thing, that this, you and I, was now the overriding fact of my life and that no one and nothing would change that."

Christian noticed that Syed had said 'loved', not love you. He understood the grammatical implications of that decision, but grammatical consistency did not trump pain. Sadness made a small inroad, but still, he had his winning card.

"That's what you say now. But I was right to worry, wasn't I? Because the minute Amira returned, all that I feared came true. I knew it, that one day you would return to that long list of other compelling attachments, the one I knew so well, the son-brother-friend-husband-Muslim chain of relationships that had NO room for me."

Syed lost it at that point, lost his cool, his ability to hold the conversation to something tame and civilized, to defend his position. Why should he continually have to defend himself. He did a lot of that with Christian. He felt as if Christian had all the juicy lines and he played the straight man. 'Ha.' He thought. 'The straight man. Christian would have loved that.' Suddenly he stood up and over Christian, his eyes in the roundness of fury, jabbing his finger at the whole essence of Christian.

"YOU ARE THE MOST SELF-CENTRED MAN I HAVE EVER MET! WHATEVER I DID TO YOU, I DID FAR WORSE TO AMIRA. YOU KNEW ME, AND YOU KNEW OF AMIRA AND ME, BUT SHE ONLY KNEW OF HER AND ME. I KEPT MYSELF PURE WITH HER, WHILST I WAS WRITHING AROUND IN YOUR BED. I MARRIED HER WHEN I WAS IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE. AND THEN I HUMILIATED HER PUBLICALLY, LEAVING HER TO HER FATE OF SHAME AND DISGRACE. I OWED HER SOMETHING, CHRISTIAN, AND SO, BY THE WAY, DID YOU!"

Christian breathed in deeply.

"You were meant to try to make amends and ask for a divorce and instead, you end up living with her and wearing your wedding ring."

"She returned with my child, and that changed everything, not with you, but for me, with her. I became a father, and that, and only that, is why she is living with me and why I went into business with her, wearing the ring to fool, not ME, but the Pakistani businessmen that we were trying to borrow money from and convince to make things for us. All this, so I could provide for my baby and for the mother of my baby, who, in case you have forgotten, was kicked out of HER home for making contact with ME.

What sacrifices have you made for ME, Christian, while we're on this topic? Hmm? What exactly did you lose, give up, turn your back on, for ME? Oh, I know, the thrill of the chase, the endless shags whose names you never remembered, and oh yes, the loneliness of no one there for you on your birthday, yeah, those are the terrible sacrifices you offered me. You never understood, never, what all of that meant in my world."

"Your world. I thought I was your world, until Amira and Yasmin came to the square and my prophesy came true; I slipped further and further down the list. On the list, but not at the top of the list. And all the while, Sy, all the while, you were lying to me, telling me that I was."

"DON'T YOU DARE, Christian, don't you dare. Do you remember that day I returned to the flat to find you packing it up, with that, that _friend _of yours. You told me we were moving, getting ready for the adoption. I told you that I didn't want a child and you let Roxy tear into me without so much as a word. And then you, you, told me to get out, that having a baby was your dream, a dream you wouldn't give up to stay in the relationship. Oh, I know what you told me later, after I ran back to you and promised and swore that I really wanted children. You told me that you were goading me, because you knew what I needed, and that I had to find that out for myself. You were relieved that your plan had worked, you said, that you didn't know what you would have done if I hadn't come back. And we went on with our plans. But I, Christian, I carried those words around for months. I still do. You have no idea how much you hurt me that day, the day I call Black Friday. The day the man who had told me I was all he ever wanted and needed showed that all to be a lie."

Syed sat down at that point. The heart, the stomach, those organs of reaction, ached and burned in him. He looked dumbly at Christian and breathed in quickly, deep consoling breaths, breaths of prevention, but, no, here they came, those tears he'd never shed over the words which should never have been said. Christian moved as if to touch him, but Syed got up again and shifted away.

"NO. NO. I do not need protection, Christian. I can take care of myself."

Syed sat down on the edge of his massage chair and, after a time, he dried his eyes and took one long breath and let one long breath out. He continued in a softer voice.

"I did lie to you, and I apologized. I try so hard to make everyone happy, Christian. Do you remember that fair we visited? That juggler who added more and more balls, flying up and down and over and about. I was mesmerized. I feel like that, a juggler, of people, whose lives I need to keep in the air, but who can never really meet, yet always return to me. Mum, Dad, the Mosque, Amira, Yasmin, Yusef. And you. Always you. And I'm not a great juggler really, not made for the job, but I cannot drop the balls, because, I'm afraid if I do, someone's world will shatter and I cannot bear that. So I lie. Not to make things better for myself, but to give me the time to get that ball back in the air and make everything all right for everyone again, a perfect harmonious balance. Of course, it's impossible, I see that now. I had hoped that once I made peace with Amira, I could bring her around to allowing you to be with her. And it was working, she was going to let us babysit."

"I forgave you the lies, Sy. But it was hurting me, when you'd told me that you placed me above all others and yet, every time I wanted to spend time with you, you were at your mother's, or in the park, in a myriad of places with signs up on their doors saying 'Christian not allowed here.' How did you think that made me feel?"

Syed regarded him, the dreaded demeanour of assuredness now replaced with one altogether move vulnerable.

"Love doesn't operate by lists, Christian. That's one of the big differences between us. For me, there is, what did you call it, a chain of relationships and I love them all, you all, for different reasons and in different ways. Mum, Dad, Tamwar, Amira, Kamil, my own Yasmin, I love them all, Christian. And none of that removes even one ounce of love from you. If you could have just waited, and trusted me, and, and, oh just saw how I looked at you, how I made love to you, heard the way you took my breath away every time you came into a room, you could just have said to yourself that he's just met his child, his child, and now there is another love in his life, and it's new and fresh and so bewitching, and he will find a way to bring me into that new piece of his love. But no, you pushed and prodded and pouted and provoked, 'look at me, pay attention to me, or I'll have a strop' until you made that disastrous mistake with Ben."

Vulnerabilty was replaced by harsh visage. Here we go, thought Syed, the watershed, when the story turns back on itself and there seems to be nowhere else to take it.

"Yeah, and there's that. How could you, even for a moment, think I would touch Ben."

Hard look was met with direct, unblinking look. A look designed to establish sincerity for once and for all.

"I. Never. Believed. That. Even. For. One. Second."

Syed repeated that and held the look until Christian could see that this at least was the red herring, the one part of the whole story that really had nothing to do with their split.

"We both said some terrible things to each other that night. But I had warned you about Ben and I stand by what I said that night. You need to be the centre of the party, the Vic, the world, the universe, my universe, and when you thought that I was no longer giving you enough adulation, you enjoyed the worship of someone else, another soul to be the gay guru for. You are sometimes frighteningly lacking in self-awareness. Remember that pub we went to and how you had a temper tantrum and left me there, because you thought I was more interested in someone else."

"I needed you that night, Sy, and yet you turned on me, not with a bat, no, but what Phil did suddenly seemed less painful than your desertion."

He could see that Christian was reeling, shaking, but he could not stop now. It all had to come out.

"I didn't desert you. I was furious and terrified. You'd made a terrible mistake, Christian, shown such a terrible lack of judgment, and then you HIT Phil Mitchell. Phil Mitchell of all people, and put yourself, me, Amira, my baby in danger. I could hardly look at you that afternoon. But once I had calmed down here, at the salon, I came home to talk to you. I thought all we needed was to sit and talk it through, the way we do, and that it would be all right. But no. I was just in time, barely, to see you jump in a taxi and leave me."

Just then, there was the sound of heels clapping on the ground, and a loud knocking at the door of the Salon. The two men looked at each other for a moment.

"Go on, Sy, anwer it. I'm knackered and you must be, too."

Syed wearily went to the door and opened it to find Amira standing there.

"Just wanted to see if you're all right, babe. What are you doing in here?"

Christian joined Syed at the door.

"We were just talking."

Amira glared at Christian and went to take Syed's arm. He gently removed it.

"Come on, let's go. I think we all need to get some sleep"

The one, simmering, the other, pondering, Amira and Christian alternated between glances of contempt for each other, with attempts to walk in step with Syed. Syed, oblivious to all of this, locked the shop and himself up for the night. And thus they returned to the flat.


	6. Interlude

Is Love Enough?

Chapter Six – Interlude

As soon as they were in, Jane rushed over to Christian, as Syed and Amira went to say good night to their daughter.

"Christian, you were with him? How was it? What did he say? What did you say?"

Syed entered the room at that point and stood awkwardly at the edge. He asked blankly, "Sleeping arrangements. What should we do? Jane has been using our, the larger, room, and Amira and Yasmin have the smaller room. I sleep in here, on a mattress."

"We had two of those, didn't we, Syed?" Christian looked at Syed, who looked away.

"Yes."

"Well then, I'll sleep on the other one."

Everyone silent, no one dared to ask where this one was to be placed, as the only room large enough to contain two mattresses was the lounge.

Syed shrugged and said, "Yes, fine, put it at that end and I'll sleep at this end. We can be civilized ex-lovers."

Syed went to the bathroom and changed. He felt too worn out to think or to feel. He had never spent a night with Christian without being in bed together, whether angry, or amorous, clutching each other, talking, or just sleeping. He was rather nervous, and, for the first time, felt some sign of desire. He threw on a dressing gown, strode back into the lounge and announced to Christian that the bathroom was now free.

Syed waited until he had left, and crawled into bed. When Christian arrived back to the room, he stopped and stared at Syed's back. He remembered just how beautiful a back it was, how flawless and glorious that skin. And he knew that he wanted him. And he knew that he could not have him.

Christian turned out the light, and crawled into his bed.

"Sy? Good night."

But there was no reply. Both lay there, the one in Pakistan, the other in the Canaries, or so it seemed. Eyes wide open. A wave of something indefinable wafted between the two mattresses. But soon, two men forced 2 pairs of eyes to close, and sleep took place.


End file.
